30 Days of OTP - USUK
by EmDashEnDashHyphen
Summary: The meme for my OTP—America x England! Warning: May cause fangirling, feels, and/or eternal happiness. Rated T for some suggestive themes.
1. Days

**Here are the days:**

01 - Holding hands

02 - Cuddling somewhere

03 - Gaming/watching a movie

04 - On a date

05 - Kissing

06 - Wearing each others' clothes

07 - Cosplaying

08 - Shopping

09 - Hanging out with friends

10 - With animal ears

11 - Wearing kigurumis

12 - Making out

13 - Eating ice cream

14 - Genderswapped

15 - In a different clothing style (Visual Kei, gyaru, lolita, ect. )

16 - During their morning ritual(s)

17 - Spooning

18 - Doing something together

19 - In formal wear

20 - Dancing

21 - Cooking/baking **(I'm going to have lots of fun with this one!)**

22 - In battle, side-by-side

23 - Arguing

24 - Making up afterwards

25 - Gazing into each others' eyes

26 - Getting married

27 - On one of their birthdays

28 - Doing something ridiculous

29 - Doing something sweet

30 - Doing something hot **(This may be a lime, but it won't be a lemon.)**


	2. Holding Hands

Welcome to Day 1 — Holding Hands!

This is set before they became a couple. It's just two guys going to the movies. I'm sure that America regrets breaking England's heart, by the way.

I do not own Hetalia or Alex Rider.

* * *

"Isn't this awesome, England?! We're gonna see Alex Rider! He's just like James Bond, but he's fourteen and oh my gosh, have you read the series? I usually hate books, but all that action is awesome and . . . ." America rambled on and on, practically jumping with excitement.

"Watch out, you idiot! That popcorn's gonna spill," England warned, not meaning the words cruelly.

America calmed down, straightening his bomber jacket and tie. He took extra care to not spill the large, buttery popcorn and cola he was holding in one arm. His other arm swung at his side.

England, catching himself staring into America's lively blue eyes, shook his head. He was a gentleman, not some love struck teenager . . . or so he reassured himself. England wore his usual bland uniform, which America loved to make fun of. America secretly thought that the color went amazingly with his brilliant green eyes but the hamburger-loving nation would never admit it.

England had had a long-standing crush on his former colony; it was realized after the Revolutionary War. He hadn't known how much he really loved America until he'd gone. He did regret giving all of those taxes to the man, but France had really left him no choice. How was he supposed to pay off that huge debt? England couldn't help but wonder if America ever regretted breaking his heart . . . .

_Off with those thoughts!_ England forced them away.

The nation saw America's lone hand right before they entered the theater. He could grab it, to see if America felt the same way about him, and no one would know in the near pitch black room. The excited chattering of people floated on the breeze, their faces lit up by the ads flashing on the screen. America selected a lone row, and England summoned his courage.

Once he was sure that no one was peeking, he took a step forward and intertwined his fingers with America's. His hand was warm and friendly, and America looked back at the sudden contact.

England was staring back at him, a light blush dusting his cheeks. His eyes searched America's face, desperate for something. America and England sat down next to each other. Pink spread across both of their faces, and, they realized with mutual relief, the other wasn't pulling away.


	3. Cuddling Somewhere

Welcome to Day 2 — Cuddling Somewhere!

(I know that, technically, this is still Day 1. I posted "Holding Hands" at 2:00 AM today. . . It was still dark out, so I count it as a day!)

I just love this one!

* * *

The room was steaming with stress. Papers were stacked high on a pale blue desk, and the wooden floor echoed the angered steps of a certain British nation. His hand clenched and he screwed his eyes shut, struggling not to panic. If he panicked, he would only succeed in getting a headache.

The nation was sweating in his green uniform, but he couldn't take the clothing off. He was only wearing a black tank top underneath, and he would rather die then let anyone see him in only a top.

England walked over to his dirty desk and sat in the brown chair, rubbing his head.

_I can't believe that I was late for my paperwork! America's always trying to screw with me somehow . . . even though he is my boyfriend, _England thought.

He grabbed a pen and was just about to start reading when the door was slammed open with a painfully familiar shout.

"What is it, America? I'm trying to finish my work!" England frowned at America's bright smile.

"Work? No wonder you didn't finish it! Last night, you were practically begging me to—" America was quickly interrupted by a flustered England.

"Yeah, yeah; all that is in the past! It was your fault anyway; can't you see that I'm working here?!" England stared at him defiantly.

"Oh, stop being so tsundere!" America laughed.

"Tsun . . . you . . . . Stop talking to Japan!" England glared back down at the papers.

"Does someone need a hug?" America walked over to England and leaned against the desk, a goofy expression on his face.

"No," England deadpanned.

"Does wittle England need a hug?" America repeated, making fun of his boyfriend.

America laughed, leaned forward, and drew England into a hug. England fought back at first and then relaxed into him. The bomber jacket that England loved so much was leathery as usual, and America held the lithe, skinny body tight. America buried his head into England's shoulder.

"Hey, England?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"Love you more."

England pulled away, showing America a rare smile. He stood up and shooed America out of the room.

"Now go away, git. I need to do my work."


	4. Watching a Movie

Welcome to Day 3 - Playing a game/watching a movie!

I selected watching a movie. Enjoy! If you notice any grammar or spelling mistakes, I would really appreciate it if you told me about it. I'm trying to perfect my grammar (even though it's better than the average 7th grader-in my school, anyway).

* * *

America childishly stomped his foot on the ground, the flowery pale blue carpet not making much noise.

"Harry Potter!" he whined, stretching out the "r".

"That movie greatly exaggerates the British community, but I do love that movie. . . You know what? Fine; let's watch it," agreed England, chuckling at his boyfriend's adorable pout.

"Yay!" America grabbed England's hand and jumped onto the fluffy, black couch, pulling England down with him.

"Let me put in the movie first!" England pushed himself up and walked over to a large glass cabinet filled with movies.

"Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. . . here it is!" the nation triumphantly picked up the box and inserted the disk into America's Blu-ray drive.

When England turned back to sit down onto the couch, America had his arms wide open, expecting a hug. England rolled his eyes with a small twitch of his lips and sat down next to him instead. America shot him a playful frown as they started the movie.

* * *

"You know, you _do _say 'bloody hell' quite a lot. Not as much as Ron, of course," commented America after the red-head cursed again. "But it's cute. So don't stop."

England blushed. "I'm not 'cute'! I'm manly as hell!"

America laughed and patted his boyfriend's head like a dog. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

England smacked his hand away, turning his head back to the screen.

"Idiots. In real life, a couple of pre-teenagers would easily be killed by a three-headed monster like that. Not that a three-headed monster like that would exist, though I do have a friend that has three heads. . ."

* * *

America shifted his eyes to England, noticing how he seemed like he was about to fall asleep. _Well, it is midnight. _Getting an idea, he fake-yawned, stretched, and put his arm around England, who blinked himself awake.

"Smooth. . ." England deadpanned, tiredly staring at America.

"Like a babies's bottom!" America smiled cockily.

England laughed, suddenly exhausted. He leaned against America's chest, closing his eyes. America watched the credits roll upwards on the screen as he leaned his head against England, staring at the television until he feel into the comfortableness of sleep.

* * *

*DEAD* I'm fangirling over my own story. Wahhhhh! They're so cute!


	5. On a Date

Welcome to _Gun_ _Dört (Day Four in Turkish) - _On a Date!

Excuse my random Turkish, but I'm feeling bilingual _bugün_ (today)!

We had International _Gun bugün._ I spoke Italian (_ciao!)_, Hindi (_namaste!), _Japanese (_konnichiwa!), _Hebrew (_shalom!), _Chinese (ni hao!), and a whole bunch of other languages.

* * *

"Mini-golf?" England raised a thick eyebrow at America.

"Yup," he answered.

England turned around and focused his attention on the lazy worker in front of him.

"I'm guessing you want two? Must be nice to have best friends. . ." the lonely, teenaged man turned around in his brown booth, grabbing two metal golf clubs.

"Yeah, _best friends_!" America nudged England and even winked at him with a bright smile.

"What colors?" the man asked.

"I don't care," replied England.

"Do you have red, white, and blue?" England rolled his eyes at America.

"No, they don't, git."

"Actually, we do have red, white, and blue," the man explained, handing a pale blue ball to England and an American flag one to America.

"Told you." America laughed, waving the ball in front of England's face.

* * *

"Ah! Be careful, damn it! You're going to smack someone!" England yelled, flinching at America's wide swings.

"I'm. . . the. . . hero! Why. . . won't. . . this. . . ball. . . move!" America growled angrily at his golf ball, swinging at it violently with his golf club.

"OHMAGOD I HIT IT!" America screamed happily and danced when his club _finally _made contact with the ball.

His victory dance was rudely interrupted by a shrill screech. A very fit and tall man was storming towards the couple, rage in his brown eyes. Anime sweat drops appeared on both America and England's heads, and they gulped with fear.

"What y'all think yer doin'!" he yelled in a very manly voice, towering over the two.

"N-nothing! We're just playing golf. . . nothing to see here. . ." England turned up his British accent to the max, knowing that it tended to get people to agree with him more.

"Now, English boy—"

"I'm not a boy! I am a _gentleman_." England insisted, still using the power of the accent. "My boyfriend did not mean to hit your face, and you know it! Now, go away; this isn't _fair_." England's accent seemed to do the trick, because the man seemed to calm down.

"Fine," the fit man growled, stomping off across the wide expanses of green grass.

"Who's the man?!" America high-fived England, crushing him in a hug.

"I am. . ." England laughed, pecking his boyfriend on the cheek.

"Now, can you help me with this? _Please_?" America looked so cute that England immediately complied.

The green-clad nation stepped behind America and fixed the golf club, laying his hands over America's. England pointed the golf club down and showed America how to swing correctly. America nodded, and England hit the ball so that it fell into a little pipe before popping out the other side, close to the first hole.

America's eyes filled with excitement, and he managed to pull off the movement England had made, smacking the ball into the hole.

"Yay~" America ran forward to glomp England, but tripped over a miniature windmill and fell onto his face, almost breaking his glasses.

"Idiot." England face-palmed while snickering before it turned into a full-blown laugh as America started cracking up at his own failure.

* * *

Cliched laughing ending. Oh well.

Am I right about that English accent? My best friend can do a really amazing one, so I know what I said is true. I do agree with her more when she talks in it. I love the way "it's not fair" sounds in that accent. My friend keeps on saying it and making me smile.


	6. Kissing

Welcome to Day 5 - Kissing!

This is set before they became a couple. High school AU, because I can. Human names used. Tsundere England.

**Please tell me if you find any mistakes!**

* * *

"Uh, hi. . ." Arthur looked down with his green eyes at his crush standing in front of him. _Why can't I talk to him? I met him on the second day I was here! _Frustrated, he flushed. _I wish I could tell him that I love him without creeping him out. . . What if he's not into guys? Oh, yeah. We're all bisexual in this school, so that shouldn't be a problem._

"Hiya, Arthur!" Alfred smiled and hugged the lithe man.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Arthur blushed red. _He's just met me!_

"It's a greeting hug?" Alfred strangely ended his answer like it was a question.

Arthur nodded slightly, scanning up and down the long hallway. _No one is around, it being lunch and all. Maybe I could tell him, leave a sign? _The dark blue lockers that lined the walls was shut, and the chatter of students drifted through the doors towards the two.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably in the school uniform—a long-sleeved, pale blue collar shirt, blue, plaid pants and a black tie. Tension grew between the two as they both expected the other to say something.

"I'm gonna go to lunch, 'kay? Uh, see you around." Alfred started to turn.

_I can't miss this perfect chance; I need to do something that he'll remember. _Arthur did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed Alfred's shoulders, pulled him close and kissed him.

Alfred's blue eyes flew open wide at the feeling of his lips touching the other man's. Arthur's lips were soft, and they were both blushing so much that they looked like tomatoes. Unfortunately, the soft, chaste kiss was over too quickly. Arthur pulled away quickly, looking mortified. He turned and bolted down the hallway, ashamed. _Why did I do something as drastic as _kiss him! _He'll never like me now. I'm so stupid!_

Alfred was left standing in the hallway, shock running through him with the tingle of Arthur on his lips. It took him a second to realize that it was a good kind of shock, and a smile made his way onto his red face. _Arthur's so dumb sometimes. Doesn't he realize that I like him back?_

* * *

Lame ending is lame. Oh, well. Tomorrow's prompt is Wearing Each Others' Clothes. I'm looking forward for Day 12 - Making Out. That'll be interesting.


	7. Dressed In Each Others' Clothes

Hoş geldiniz (welcome [formal]) to Day Six — Dressed in Each Others' Clothes!

Sorry I'm late; I saw a movie (Maleficent) and went out for dinner.

America and England were in England before flying back to America, BTW.

* * *

"I can't wait for them to see our costumes!" America smiled and jumped in excitement.

"I wonder how they'll react to me wearing your clothes," wondered England.

The street beneath their feet was wet; it had rained earlier. The sky was dark, and it was Halloween night. Trick-or-treaters ran around in colorful costumes—most weren't scary. Teenagers were having fun scaring little kids in princess and dog costumes. Laughter and screams echoed down the streets, along with the calls of "Trick-or-treat!"

They arrived at America's house, England dressed in his boyfriend's bomber jacket uniform and America dressed in England's green uniform.

"Wow! America . . . England . . . . You look weird, dressed as each other!" Spain greeted them at the door. (He'd visited America yesterday and had promised to meet him at his house so that they could go trick-or-treating together, along with Prussia and France.)

"_Mon amis_! You . . . look so formal, America! It's weird, but I like it," said France, popping up from behind Spain.

"What? That jacket is weird on you. Don't ever wear it again." Prussia pointed to England, who frowned.

"Thanks for welcoming us home," England chirped sarcastically.

"Let's go trick-or-treating!" Prussia yelled, jumping out the pale blue door.

His costume was a zombie, fake blood on his face. Green makeup covered him, and all of his clothes were ripped—not so much that they showed everything, however. France's costume was his favorite—the one he had worn on April Fool's Day, minus the "naked" part (He was sad about this, of course. The rest of the nations thought that it was "a bad image" to all of the little kids and that he couldn't go naked. Plus, it was cold). He wore his usual purple cape and red pants with yellow cat ears and tail. Spain was a bull rider, complete with a red cape and low-cut shirt. It attracted quite a lot of attention from girls—and France and Prussia—as they started to walk through the streets.

The group walked for 2 hours, getting their bags filled with candy—and England was only groped twice, amazingly! Everything was normal: Prussia was rude, Spain was sexy, France was pervy, England was tsundere, and America was loud.

Since all of the kids had gone when the group was walking back to America's house, America had a fun time hugging—and, once, kissing—England. France even tried to intercept a kiss once; he failed, and was pushed aside. The two apologized for it later—and that means only America apologized.

"Hey, America?" asked England while they were walking by a red house.

"Yeah?"

"Your jacket feels nice."

"That's why I wear it, duh."

"Hey, England?" America asked, holding England's hand while swinging it back and forth.

"Yes?"

"Your uniform feels nice, too."

"Thanks; I know."

* * *

More lame endings. :( **Please tell me if you notice any mistakes; I would greatly appreciate it!**


	8. Cosplaying

Welcome to Day 7 — Cosplaying!

I picked Light and L from Death Note. (I like that pairing, anyway.)

I would have done SasuNaru if I watched that show.

* * *

"Death Note is awesome!" America straightened his red tie.

"Agreed." England set his black wig.

America was wearing Light's ensemble of clothing—red tie, white collar shirt, black pants, a blond/brown wig, a tan jacket, and a Slasher Smile to top it off.

England wore L's outfit—baggy white shirt and jeans, a black wig, black around his eyes (yes, it looked weird on him), and even white face paint.

"Smile for me!" America requested, beaming at England.

England showed a tiny smile, like the one L had made while in the apartment with the police working on the Kira Case.

"You're so cute!" America glomped England, almost making him fall over.

"You aren't supposed to smile and hug me if you're supposed to be Light!" England pushed him off.

America frowned. "Let's roleplay, then. We can do Light x L, which means that, of course, I'm the seme!"

"Wha-what?! Why would you want to make a—"

"No, silly! Not a sex tape. I just meant that we can still be a couple, even while we're roleplaying. Maybe we can post some pictures online! More people that like Death Note might start watching Hetalia."

"Goddammit, America! What did I tell you about breaking the fourth wall?"

"Fourth wall? I think I accidentally smashed it while I was playing baseball . . . . Sorry."

"Shut up, Light," yelled England, annoyed.

* * *

~while roleplaying~

Light began to laugh. "I've got you know, L. There's no escape!" He snatched up his Death Note, grabbing a red pen. "Now, tell me your real name."

L leaned backwards, still maintaing his calm composure. "No."

"Tell me right now!" Light's eyes flickered red.

"Why?" L replied, staring back at him.

"Because I'll . . . I'll . . . kiss you!" Light stammered.

"Kiss me? Go ahead, but it won't make me tell," answered L.

Light glared at him, wondering if his words were true. Maybe he'd bite his lip or something. Their lips connected for 3 seconds, but Light didn't pull away. He kissed L deeper, shutting his eyes—and then he felt himself getting pushed away.

* * *

~end roleplay~

"America! Why'd you kiss me like . . . _that_!" England was blushing and breathing heavily.

"I got too into it. Sorry." America looked down.

"No, it's okay. It was just weird, that's all. It made me . . . uncomfortable."

"Sure, _uncomfortable. _I bet you want to kiss me like that right now." America guessed with a teasing smirk and a wink.

England, in turn, blushed more when he realized that America's words were true. _Stupid mind, stop thinking of . . . all . . . the . . . things . . . I could do to him . . ._

* * *

Use your imagination to figure out what happens next. America isn't very good at roleplaying Light, in my opinion.


	9. Shopping

Welcome to Day 8 - Shopping!

They're at Target. Let the show begin!

* * *

"Chocolate is obviously the best ice cream," reasoned America, grabbing the largest tub of ice cream that they had, which was huge.

"No, no. Mint ice cream is far superior." England shook his head, taking the chocolate from America.

"Chocolate!" America whined childishly, trying to yank it back.

"Stop acting like a child, America!" England said, pulling it back.

An annoyed sign appeared on both of their heads as they pulled it back and forth, not noticing that the top was coming off. _Pop! _The covering fell on the floor and both of their hands squeezed the container, causing the ice cream to explode out.

"Now I'm covered in chocolate ice cream! Thanks a lot, America," yelled England, feeling dirty and sticky as he tried to wipe the dessert off of his green top.

"You're welcome!" America winked. "Why don't you just lick it off?"

"I'm a person, unlike you."

America feigned hurt, placing his hand over his heart on his wet jacket. "You are a cruel, cruel man."

England rolled his eyes looked up and down the aisle for help. No one was present in the freezer section, as it was a slow day for Target, the store they were in.

"Hey—" England stiffened when America picked up his hand and started to lick the ice cream off of England's fingers.

"I like ice cream~" America chirped in a sing-song voice as England flushed.

"Stop that!" He snatched away his hand, which was clean of the dessert.

America laughed at him, stopping suddenly when a man walked over. He had on the red shirt of Target and white pants. The man looked very irritable, especially with a scowl like the one he displayed to the couple.

"You're going to have to pay for that. Now, if you aren't going to be acting like your ages in my store, please leave the premises." The manager glared at them with yellow eyes, freaking them out.

"Okay, okay! We're leaving!" The two put their hands up and walked out of the store.

"Look what you did!" England reprimanded as they got into America's small, red car.

"You pulled back. And now there's chocolate ice cream on my seats," said America. "You still have chocolate on you. Here, let me get it off . . ."

"Don't LICK ME!" England yelled, pushing him away while America laughed at him.

* * *

I guess America's feeling kinky or something. I want ice cream . . .


	10. Hanging Out with Friends

Welcome to Day 9 — Hanging Out with Friends

I wanted to use the Bad Touch Trio, but my best friend gave me another idea: Estonia! (He may be OOC, because I haven't seen a lot of Estonia.)

I typed this up at school today. ;P

* * *

"Hey, Estonia! How are you?" America greeted a jet lagged, blond nation at the door.

"Good." Estonia smiled tiredly and stepped into England's house.

Immediately, the horrid stench of burnt food swept into his face, making Estonia cough and wave his hand in the air, trying to clear the smoke.

"England's cooking food?" Estonia raised an eyebrow.

"Yep," coughed America.

"Hello, hello! Welcome!" chirped England from the kitchen, who was in a cheery mood.

Estonia tucked his prized possession—his iPad—under his arm and adjusted his brown glasses. He waved at the nation and sat down on the pale blue couch. America and England sandwiched next to him.

"Which video game do you wanna play?" America grabbed the Xbox controller.

* * *

Estonia stopped running over zombies with his car in _Dead Rising Three _when he heard an audible crack. England jumped up to reveal a broken iPad.

"Oh _hell no_," Estonia slowly stood up, dropping the controller.

"Uh, uh . . . . Sorry, Estonia! I swear that I didn't mean to break your iPad!" Blue lines appeared on both England and America's heads.

"Do you guys know how much time I put into programming that expensive model?" Estonia titled his head while his green eyes flashed.

"N-no! We'll pay for everything, I swear," the two babbled, terrified as a purple aura clouded around Estonia.

"Would you like some scones?" England sweat-dropped and offered Estonia the burnt "treats."

The screaming that erupted from England's house that day was so loud that it was mistaken as a fierce hurricane storm, causing distress around the world.

* * *

Scary, scary Estonia. DON'T MESS with his tech. I didn't feel like writing a lot today . . . .


	11. With Animal Ears

Welcome to Day 10 - With Animal Ears!

Kawaii~ Warning for two adorable nekos!

* * *

"You guys are cute . . . Like cats . . ." droned Greece tiredly, nuzzling a black cat near his face.

"These ears and tail make me look stupid!" England reached up to remove the headband.

"No! Come on, you're so adorable! All we need is makeup," America stopped England from taking it off.

England resisted a smile when he saw America with blond cat ears and tail. He was certain that he was the most lovable thing he'd ever seen!

Behind the two, one of England's magical friends giggled and pointed a small wand at the two. A tingling sound hit their ears, and _poof! _

"What the—" America yowled.

The couple had turned into cats! They were both white-colored. England had a light brown patch over his green eye, a brown tail and his thick eyebrows. America had thick, fluffy, dark brown neck fur that extended down to his chest, a dark brown tail, blue eyes, and what looked like markings of his eyeglasses.

"Hey! Turn us back, Sarah!" England growled at the little green fairy, who was busy falling on the floor from their cute charm.

Sarah shook her head and disappeared. England scowled and his fur ruffled. Suddenly, there was a loud thud.

"Greece? You okay?" America peered at the cat-loving nation, who had fallen on the carpeted floor, cats swarming around him with a huge smile on Greece's face. Hearts seemed to pop out of his head as he fanboyed over the two felines.

* * *

"You two little kitties are so cute! Come with me, _oui_?" France smiled when he spotted the two adorable cats walking along the streets.

"_We can't tell him we're human! We'll _never _live it down!" _America quickly said in cat-language.

"_Fine, but if he pulls anything funny . . ." _England trailed off.

France walked over and scooped the two toms up. He petted the two while he walked back to his normal house, humming. The blond unlocked the pale blue door, placing the cats on his purple couch.

"I'm going to go get some cat food, okay?" France smiled and walked out of his living room.

England immediately jumped off the couch, looking around for an escape. The doors leading out of the area were all closed, and England knew they were tightly closed. France always shut his doors carefully, so his white cat wouldn't go sneaking around in his house and possibly break something. A lush, purple carpet made England's paws sink into the ground.

"_Why are you on the floor? France's going to give us food! Let's enjoy that while we still can!" _America meowed loudly, slicing through the quiet. He jumped down, landing on top of England.

"_Stop that, idiot! Why would you want to spend time with that frog? Hey, get off!" _England's fur puffed up so that he was twice his size as he and America rolled around on the floor.

"_But you're so cute!" _America cuffed him lightly on the head, laughing as the angry tom attacked him.

They fought for a while, until they noticed that the small noises that were emitting from the kitchen had ceased.

"_Bonjour_, little kitties! I have a meal for you!" France laughed at the sight of the ruffed up cats. "Here you go."

Both England and America were given a plate of luxurious cat food, and they wolfed it down in seconds. Even England would have to admit that France was an amazing cook (though, not as good as him, obviously).

"_Your fur is messy. I'll help you clean it,_" America mewed and began to lick England's head, smoothing down the ruffled fur.

"_Well, yours is too. I guess I'll help you._" England turned towards his boyfriend and rasped his little, pink tongue over America's ears.

"If my cat wasn't at Greece's house, I would have let him play with you two," France commented, sparkling.

America and England continued to work until each of their fur was down, both of them moving over one last hair when . . . _Poof!_ They grew until they were human again, England and America's tongue in the other's hair (on their head, duh).

France was left with his mouth hanging open rather unattractively before regaining his composure.

"No way! That was you two?! Did a spell go wrong or something, England?!" France burst into laughter.

England reddened and quickly backed away from America. "N-no! Sarah cast a spell—"

"Yeah, _Sarah. _As in the fairy? I think you need professional help, England," France managed to say before dissolving into uncontrollable laughter. "I only wish that I'd gotten a picture! You two just ate cat food! A-and th-then you _licked _each other! Haha, oh _mon Dieu_!"

* * *

Nekotalia~ When I said that France was sparkling, I meant that he was being bishie. I hope this length and the adorableness makes us for the shortness of yesterday's!


	12. Wearing Kigurumis

Welcome to Day 11 - Wearing Kigurumis

I bet America gives the best bear hugs. Kigurumis are basically complete fur suits like animals and cartoon characters.

* * *

"Hey, do you think we could make some money at a strip club with these?"

"Shut up, America! No, we can't," England glared at the bear next to him, who laughed.

"Okay, okay! Calm down, Uni!" America flicked England's horn.

"Stupid bet. Now we have to wear these all day," England was not happy, even if his kigurumi was a unicorn, his favorite animal.

"Maybe I can give you a nice, warm bear hug to make you feel better?" America squeezed his eyes shut and opened his arms, ready to glomp England again.

"Unicorns don't hug bears."

"But you're not just a unicorn. You're _my _unicorn!"

"I'm not your property!"

"Well, you're my boyfriend, then. Now come here!" America yelled before jumping into the air and tackling England in a hug.

"Wah! You're too heavy-y-y-y!" England lost his footing and fell onto the pale blue carpet of his living room, America almost flattening him (well, I exaggerated a bit, but you get the idea).

"What sound does a bear make again? Oh yeah, _roar_!" America snuggled into the fabric of the unicorn under him.

"That sounds more like a lion. Please get off!" England tried to roll away, but America had him pinned down.

"Hugz!" America grabbed him in a bone-crushing hug, kissed him, and finally rolled away.

"Ugh, I think you broke something. You're going to pay for the medical bill if you did!" England got up slowly, pulling the hood of the suit back up. "And now I'm hot," he cursed and glared at the bear.

"You know you love me!" America turned to you. "I'm here all night, folks!"

"We need to fix that fourth wall soon," England pushed him away. "You're a fictional character, so you can't interact with the real world!" The blond turns to you. "Sorry about that. You know America, so . . . Hey! Don't tug on my horn!" England jumped back, knocking your hand away from his head.

"Since _I'm _in your world, England, I can do this for our audience!" America started to pull England around the room using his horn.

"Alright, show's over!" England pulled a red curtain over the fourth wall, blocking your view.

Sounds could still be heard from underneath, but you can't access the forth wall. To do that, you'd need to be fictional or have special permission. Unfortunately, you aren't fictional, and you don't have permission. So, you'll have to wait for the next update.

* * *

Maybe I'll give you guys special permission—straight from the author—so you can join these two on their crazy, romantic thing that they have. Tomorrow is Making Out, which I'm super excited for. I'll try not to make it too detailed, but I've written lemons before, so I can write them . . .


	13. Making Out

Welcome to Day 12 - Making Out!

I'm excited to do this one! Warning: lots of fanservice. Don't read this if you don't want a nosebleed.

* * *

The two men walked into England's living room, sitting down on the tan couch. China had cooked a simple, yellow cake with vanilla frosting for England and America—it was their anniversary. They wanted to be more casual for it, so England and America were wearing their white collared shirts instead of their uniforms.

"Don't you dare get any of this on my couch, okay?" England cut a piece for him and America, placing them on two paper plates.

"Thanks! I love cake; we'll have to thank China at the World Meeting tomorrow," America's words were muffed by the cake he was stuffing into his mouth.

"Don't eat with your hands!" England picked up a fork. "Like _this_," he explained, cutting into the cake and eating a small piece of it.

"Fine . . ." America started to enjoy his dessert the way that England was, ignoring the urge to rip into it with his fingers.

Soon, America was ready for seconds.

"Really, America? Frosting is on your chin . . ." England looked up from the vanilla frosted cake they were sharing and stared at America. "I'll get it off . . ." He got an idea, feeling devious. He could get revenge on America for—that certain thing that occurred a few days ago.

Inching over to his boyfriend, the blond nation licked the frosting off America's chin. America blinked in surprise, looking down slightly to watch England with a confused expression. England smirked and purposely put on a very . . . erotic face, just to spur him on.

America blushed and suddenly longed to feel lips on his. He pulled England up and drew him into a passionate kiss. England shut his eyes, opening his mouth slightly and poking America's teeth with his tongue. America, getting the idea, opened his mouth and let the invader inside, his tongue digging into England's mouth. England shivered and swung his legs around so he was straddling America, pushing back hard while struggling to hold noises back.

Eventually, they had to break apart for air, chests heaving with spit still connecting them.

"Dang, I almost forgot what a great kisser you are," America smiled cockily, blue eyes dulled.

England smashed his lips into America's again, more desperately; he was almost biting them. He moved his hands up around his back and weaved them into America's soft, blond hair, tugging at it. America moaned and started to hurriedly unbutton England's white shirt with sweating hands.

"The bedroom?" A flushed England stopped him from undoing his tie.

"You know it," America breathed, picking up England bridal-style.

For once, England didn't complain. Very inappropriate thoughts were rushing in both of their heads. Luckily for them, no one was around so they could be as loud as they want. England was a bit of a screamer, something that America sometimes like to tease him about.

He carried him to his room, forgetting all about the half-eaten pieces of cake still sitting on the pale blue plates.

* * *

I managed to make myself extremely sexually frustrated by writing this. Anyone have a nosebleed?


	14. Eating Ice Cream

Welcome to Day 13 — Eating Ice Cream!

I wrote this at school today, so you get an update early!

* * *

"Alright, fine! You can have your ice cream!" England frowned at America with green eyes.

"Yay~" he ran into the kitchen with glee.

England chuckled and followed him into America's white kitchen. He'd cleaned it earlier, after many prompts from the European nation.

"Get me mint, okay?" England began searching for bowls in the wooden cupboards.

America grabbed a tub of chocolate, a tub of mint, and two silver spoons. He set them down on the table, dragging two chairs over to the pieces of wood.

"There's only one bowl here," England notified America, picking up the medium-sized glass.

"We'll have to share it, then!"

"Oh, bloody hell . . . ," England breathed, but complied with his boyfriend.

America took a scoop of mint and a scoop of chocolate, placing them in the pale blue, glass bowl.

"Dig in!" the megane managed to stop himself from eating it too fast, so he didn't get a horrid headache like he usually did. "Do you know that we're sharing lots of spit right now?" America took it upon himself to make the experience as awkward as possible by continuously mentioning all of the bacteria that they were infecting each other with.

"Oh, my God, America. I love you, but please shut your mouth!" England pleaded, a headache creeping up on his brain.

America laughed. "I'm joking!" He looked down at the pale blue bowl. "Your ice cream is touching mine! Now it's gonna get infected with mint!"

"That's bollocks, America!" yelled England.

"Don't use your fancy British curses on me!" America flicked his spoon at England, a chocolate drop landing on England's cheek.

"Idiot." England made no move to wipe it off.

"Opps, sorry," America apologized, wiping the drop off England's soft cheek with a thumb.

England smiled slightly and the couple finished their ice cream.


	15. Genderswapped

Welcome to Day 14 — Genderswapped

I couldn't think of anything. Sorry, this one is later than usual. I had to go finish reading _The Fault in Our Stars _(which gets a 3 out of 10 rating from me).

* * *

"I love your hair!" America commented, brushing her fingers through England's long pigtails.

"Thanks," answered a bashful England. "It's not that pretty, though."

"Shut up! It totally is!" America withdrew her hands and looked at her girlfriend, bored.

England sighed and picked up her book. "I'm just going to read, okay?"

"But books are boring! Come on, spend time with me!"

"You want me to read it to you?"

"Ugh, _fine_. What's it about?"

"It's about a man who falls in love with his best friend."

"Ooh, I never knew you liked yaoi!" America teased, noticing that the man's best friend was another guy, according to the cover of the novel.

"Well, uh," England babbled, blushing. "It's just an interest."

"Don't be ashamed about it! I love yaoi, too!" America turned to you. "And I know that most of you people also love yaoi."

England didn't bother to muster the strength to tell America off for ignoring the forth wall—which was broken anyway. (They haven't fixed it yet, and I don't think that they'll plan to anytime soon. Do you know how much new forth wall replacements are?! Sometimes, lives in fictional worlds sucked.)

"Sometimes, I even read yaoi about 1p USUK." She couldn't help but fangirl slightly. "They're so adorable. England's so tsundere, just like you, England!"

"Sshh"—England motioned to her book—"I'm trying to read here."

"Read to me!" America grabbed the nations arm and tugged on it. "Please?"

"Fine."

England read her yaoi book to America, and she was surprised when America started to like it.

"Kayden is so cute! I love Dameon! They need to get together already!" America yelled out when the two had a blushy moment together.

"I agree," nodded England while smiling.

"Yes! Finally! He kissed him!" America was so happy by the date that the two finally went on that she pulled England up and started to dance.

"Yay!" England let go of her more formal composure, leaving it to squeal with her energetic girlfriend as she leaned over to kiss America.

England read to America until the book was done, the two emotionally drained by the time it was 9:00 PM.

* * *

**Make sure you tell me if you spot any mistakes! **I don't know how Nyo!USUK works, but I imagine the two as liking yaoi, and England secretly being a huge fangirl. On a side note: Sorry to all of you John Green fans, but I didn't really enjoy the book at all. Of course, you people don't care.


	16. In a Different Clothing Style

Welcome to Day 15 - In a Different Clothing Style!

I'm going to be rushing off to Wayne Day soon, so this may be short.

* * *

America was wearing his red, white, and blue pajamas as he rushed over to England's house.

"Yo, Iggy!" he screamed from outside his door, alerting his boyfriend.

"You better not try anything," was England's way of greeting as he opened the pale blue door.

"I don't think I will, but no promises~" America winked at the shorter man, stepping inside.

England rolled his eyes and followed him. They walked (or ran, in America's case) up the stairs and entered England's bedroom, which was neat—as usual.

"Where are your pajamas?" America asked.

"Oh, I still need to change into them," explained England, looking down at his white shirt and red tie. "And, no, you can't watch, pervert," noticing America's mouth opening.

"That's not what I was going to ask, dude! I was just going to ask you about your pajamas. Do you still have those England flag ones?" America inquired. At England's nod, he continued. "Awesome. Wear those. You look cute in them."

England blushed. "Uh, okay."

"Awww!" America exclaimed, looking at England's white-with-a-red-stripe top and pants. He immediately glomped the blond nation, Texas almost falling off his face.

"It's just a sleepover! It's supposed to be a friendly thing, and stop gushing over me!" England pushed America away. "Now, I have a mattress for you—"

"Nao! I wanna sleep with you! Don't you like it?" America interrupted.

"I said not to try anything!"  
"I'm not! Besides, you're warm."

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment." England blushed, slightly flattered.

* * *

Yes, I spelt "no" as "nao" on purpose. I wasn't sure where I was going for this one. Not much of an ending, but I had to run off. **Important note: For Days 16 (During Their Morning Rituals) and Day 17 (Spooning), these will be taking place as alternate endings to this. Day 16 will obviously be taking place in the morning after, while Day 17 will be happening in the night.**


	17. During Their Morning Ritual(s)

Welcome to Day 16 — During Their Morning Rituals!

It's a race to the bathroom! A bit of fanservice for you people, because fanservice is actually really fun to write.

* * *

England woke up sweating, and he could almost see steam curling up from his nose. A very hot body seemed to be laying on top of him, a hand loosely holding onto England's hand.

"Get off me, America!" England shoved America with all of his might.

America was rudely awakened from his sleep when he hit the hardwood floor of England's bedroom. "Hey! What the hell, England?!"

"You rolled on top of me," explained an irritable blond nation. "And, no, I don't want and don't to know why. You move a lot in your sleep, anyway."

America shrugged in his red, white, and blue pajamas. "I CALL DIBS ON THE BATHROOM!" he screamed, racing down the hallway.

"H-hey! No fair!" England yelled, following him.

"I need a shower too, you know! You made me hot during the night, so I obviously deserve it first!" England wasn't feeling like an adult that morning. He tried the bathroom door, but it was locked. "America! Open this door!"

He was in the process of hitting the pale blue, wooden door before it opened.

"Bloody hell! At least put some clothes on!" England blushed and shielded his eyes.

"Not like there's anything you haven't seen already . . . ." America's comment turned England's cheeks red.

"If you're going to be childish—wow, I'd never thought I'd say that—then just take a shower with me!" The cheerful nation smiled, grabbed England's arm, and pulled him inside.

~fanservicey-ish time~

The water was already running, creating a roaring sound. The sound bounced off of the white tiles.

"Okay. Strip." America pointed at England.

"Wha-what? No!"

"Then I'll do it for you," sighed America, taking off the English-flag top of England's pajamas.

"You aren't going to leave me alone until I take a shower with you, are you?" England fiery cheeks seemed to burn even more when his boyfriend stripped him of his pants and boxers.

"Nope! Now get in there!" America gently pushed England inside.

This, of course, lead to an awkward situation in which the two had to struggle to _not _collide with each other—though, I'm sure you'd enjoy it, readers.

"At least this'll cut down on your water bill, huh?" America laughed at England's red face, scrubbing his hair with 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner.

"I guess," he said, grabbing the bottle—once America was done with it—and soaking his hair. England's hands were shaking so much that the bottle fell onto the shower floor with a thud. He cursed, reached down, and picked it up with as much dignity as possible.

"Stop staring at me!" he yelled when he met America's gaze, flustering even more.

"You're cute, you know that?" America lost their awkward avoiding-game by pulling the tsundere in a bear hug, careful to keep the rest of their bodies farther apart.

England sighed. "You tell me that everyday. So, duh, I know. But I don't think I'm cute."

"You should look in the mirror someday—messy up your hair even more, cross your arms, frown, and blush—and you'll see it." America pulled away, jumping out of the shower and handing a towel to his boyfriend. "Here, I'll show you!" He covered himself up and dragged England over to a mirror. "Just do what I said!"

England managed to achieve every posture except for blushing. He wasn't sure how to make that happen. America rolled his eyes and licked England's ear, breathing heavily next to it. That seemed to do the trick, and England was flustering pink when he pulled away.

"See? Cute," America badly wanted to hug the blond nation.

"I-I guess," admitted England.

"Yay! I knew it!" The megane glomped England happily.

* * *

What kind of ending is this? Anyway, adorable, tsundere England is adorable, tsundere England. Along with some fanservicey things. I forgot to explain what a "megane" is! It simply means "glasses" in Japanese, but—in anime fan-speak—it's usually used to describe a character who wears glasses. Ex: Estonia, America, Austria, Canada, Fem!England . . . ect. I love em dashes!


	18. Spooning

Welcome to Day 17 - Spooning!

This happens during the night of the sleepover that they started two chapters ago. (Day 15 - In a Different Clothing Style.)

/-\/\/ J0[_] R34|) MY 1337? (Try to figure this out! Here's the language—Leet.)

* * *

England pushed back the Great Britain flag blankets, stepping aside to let America climb in first.

"It'll be warmer with you here. It's freaking freezing tonight!" America grumbled, shifting over to the far right pale blue pillow while England took the left one.

"I must agree; it really _is_ cold," shivered England. "Well, good night." He faced away from the other blond nation and shut his eyes.

America smiled. England looked younger when he was sleeping. _And less grumpier! _With his boyfriend, he felt much safer, so he didn't have any trouble falling asleep, even with the obvious potential threat of ghosts.

* * *

America woke up during the night by a rustling noise. He flickered his eyes over to the clock—it was 1:00 in the morning—before returning them to the source of the noise. "England? You okay?" America was slightly worried, even though he knew that the shorter nation was probably just having a nightmare.

England popped upright, breathing heavily. His green eyes were shimmering with fear when he immediately looked at a startled America. Very visible relief hit his body, and he relaxed, finally letting tears spill over as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Suddenly, the British nation's stomach was surrounded by two warm arms, America hugging his back to his chest to calm him down, softly shushing him.

"What happened?" America's tone softened as England twisted his head around to blink tears out of his emerald eyes.

"I dreamt that a thug came running at us while we were in an alleyway . . . I got stabbed and you were badly hurt. You . . . d-died right in front of me!" England imagined the look on his lover's face as life trickled out of him and his dazzling blue eyes grew dull. He let America clutch him tighter, leaning back into him.

"I'm still here; I won't leave you, okay? Ever." America wiped his tears away until they stopped, kissing his lips chastely.

America pulled him closer to his cozy body, England sniffling. He wrapped his arms more securely around his stomach, bringing him into a position that might have been awkward if it weren't for the circumstances.

"You're safe," whispered America comfortingly.

"I know," England answered, not adding the usual "idiot" at the end.

"Good. And if anyone tries to hurt you, they'll be hell to pay."

England fell asleep smiling, safely tangled in the arms of his lover with the blond nation's breath on his neck, washing away all of his fear and tears.

* * *

Hah! I bet that you thought that I was going to use the excuse that, "England was cold", huh? Nope; plot twist!

As you can see, I LOVE describing emotions, especially sad, scared, or happy ones. Also, people dying.

Poor England! This couple is so sweet! ;o; (That's supposed to be a crying face. . .)

AND AMERICA'S LINE! /cue "aw"


	19. Doing Something Together

Welcome to Day 19 — Doing Something Together!

(A bit of talk about France's sexual activities in this chapter, so a warning for that.) So many choices . . . . **Someone please explain how to correctly use freaking ellipses? Everywhere I look, it's telling you something different!**

* * *

"I'm bored," deadpanned America as he sat next to England on his boyfriend's bed.

"What do you want to do, then?" England answered, looking up from his book.

"I've just heard of this really popular game!"

"If it's _Twister _. . . ," England warned.

"No! It's called _Would You Rather?_" America sweat-dropped and waved his hands, knowing how much the shorter nation hated _Twister_. "The point of the game is simple. The first player says, 'Would you rather. . .' and gives two options. Then, the second player has to pick one and then asks another 'Would you rather. . . .'"

"Well, that's easy. Sure, I'll play with you." England set his book down, looking at the pale blue cover for a second before expectantly staring at America.

"So,"—America rubbed his hands together—"Would you rather eat your own cooking or be forced to play _Twister_?"

"Ugh. It depends—is the frog with me?" England asked, knowing that France would try to get as close to him as possible if they were to play _Twister_, and that France would tease him horridly about his cooking—again.

"No," America reassured him.

"Then I'll eat my own cooking." _It tastes pretty good, anyway. I don't see anything wrong with my scones. . . ._ "Would you rather. . . have to read a huge book or sit through another one of Canada's up-to-four-hours _Why You Suck _speeches?" England asked.

"Sit through Canada's speeches. At least I can, like, not pay attention and he won't notice. Reading a huge book is just torture, and I can live through Canada." America searched his mind for another torturous question, then smiled devilishly. "Would you rather have a one night stand with France or Italy?"

"Uh . . . ." England blushed, not wanting to tell him. _I actually have had a one night stand with France a couple decades ago . . . but he'd agreed to never speak of it again! And I know, from rumors, that Italy used to give great one night stands . . . . I doubt that he's as good as France though. I wonder if Germany and him have had—_

"Hey! I'm not getting younger here!" America interrupted rudely.

"Okay, calm down, I'm answering. Um, France . . . ."

"You just picked him because he's amazing at it." America smiled in victory.

"Wait, you've—!"

"Duh, who hasn't gotten laid by France at least once? Except for the children, of course," America answered, rolling his eyes.

England waved the matter away, blushing. "We are not going to talk about the frog! Now, would you rather be strangled by me or be stabbed by me?" England got a gleam in his eye.

"Neither!" America yelled, pushing himself up from the black couch and racing away, England chasing after him. "I'm sorry!" he yelled.

America learned a lesson that day: Don't ever mention England's sexual activities, or you'll be punished. Harshly.

* * *

Hah, hah, yes! GerIta is canon in this story, along with Spamano. I just haven't mentioned it. Those four will probably pop up later.

I have this headcanon that most of the nations have had sex with France at least once. It makes so much sense to me.


	20. In Formal Wear

Welcome to Day 19 - In Formal Wear!

This one is a high school AU. Remember that everyone's bi in this school, as I mentioned in Day 5.

This one is late because I went to Six Flags on a field trip with some girls from my school.

* * *

Alfred sighed when he saw Ludwig asking Feliciano to the prom that was being held on Friday. He smiled slightly when Feli jumped into Ludwig's arms and said, "Yes!" happily.

_I wonder if I can ask Arthur to prom? He does seem to like me, with the way he acts towards me. . . . It's been different since we've gotten into high school, more intimate-like._

Alfred sighed again; It was always easy to tell who Arthur had a crush on. _And it seems to be me. Wait, if I know that he likes me and that I like him . . . where's the problem? He won't reject me! I'm stupid. Oh, there he is now. I can go ask him._

Alfred walked towards Arthur, who was putting away his Science textbook nervously, like he was worried about something.

"Hey," greeted Alfred as he opened the blue locker next to his best friend's.

"Hello. . . ," murmured Arthur, looking around like he was afraid that someone would overhear them.

"I have something to ask you!" The two both turned to each other and spoke at the same time, sweating bullets. "Will you go to prom with me?"

Both Alfred and Arthur's eyes widened and they blushed as they realized that they'd just asked the same question at the same time.

"Yes!" They yelled, embracing each other.

"Ha. I knew you had a crush on me, Arthur, so"—Alfred smirked—"stop being so adorably readable."

* * *

"I hate this tux. It's so itchy and stupid," America whined as his mother helped him with the tie—he didn't know how to tie one correctly.

"You need to wear something nice for your date, honey! I'm so glad that you've found love, whether in a boy or girl or whatever," his mother smiled, dressed in a casual, large, white t-shirt and black pants.

"Thanks for being supportive, Mom."

"Of course! You're my son after all!" His mother was very cheerful, finishing the tie. "You want to drive yourself, I assume?"

"Yep."

* * *

"You look so handsome in that. . . ," Alfred commented, looking at Arthur up and down.

"Thanks," Arthur blushed, self-consciously running a hand through his slicked-back hair.

"But calm down with the hair gel. It looks weird on you."

"Thanks for being subtle. . . ," Arthur grinned and punched his date in the shoulder good-naturedly.

Suddenly, a slow song came on, neither one of them recognizing the old tune. Other couples formed around them, hetro and homo alike. Antonio and Lovino started to sway, along with Ludwig and Feliciano. Elizabeth was busy swinging back and forth to Gilbert and to Roderich, who seemed to be fighting over her. Poor Francis didn't have a date, but he was walking towards Matthew. Sadik and Hercules were fighting over Kiku again, but the Greek seemed to winning. Alfred nodded; all was well.

"May I have this dance?" Alfred offered his hand to Arthur.

* * *

**Important note: The next one—Dancing—will take place at the prom.**


	21. Dancing

Welcome to Day 20 — Dancing!

Again, this takes place at the prom, where the last one left off. I also joke about Francis and his pervy ways in this chapter, so don't be mad at me!

Recap:

_"May I have this dance?" Alfred offered his hand to Arthur._

* * *

Arthur chuckled, hoping that he would be able to pull this off. He'd practiced dancing—and kissing, though he wouldn't ever admit it—in front of the mirror. "Okay." He took his hand. _Should I wrap my hands around his waist or neck or—_

"You can put your hands here," Alfred instructed, placing Arthur's hands around his neck and moving his hand to the side of Arthur's waist, making sure to maintain a comfortable distance.

_Looks like we're doing this right. _Arthur looked around, noticing that almost all of the other couples we in the same position. Francis's hand was a little lower than it should be, but Matthew didn't look that uncomfortable about it; he was smiling. They were slowly swaying to the beat, steadily turning around.

The couple began to copy the Canadian and the Frenchman—though Alfred kept his hand up. They turned around; Alfred was glad that he hadn't managed to cause some kind of disaster yet. That is, he was hadn't until his foot—his _heel, _nonetheless—stepped on Arthur's toes.

Arthur almost cursed and jumped back while Alfred looked mortified and the other couples—and the dateless suckers at the sidelines—turned towards them and glared at them.

"Churlish boys . . . ," muttered the Science teacher, who disliked the couple.

"Heh, sorry!" Alfred put his hands up and everyone resumed their dance. "Oh, my God. I seriously didn't mean to do that!" Alfred pleaded.

"I know. Just make sure you're more careful," warned Arthur.

Suddenly, the end of the song arrived and some of the other couples kissed each other.

"Calm it down, you two!" Mr. Fredrickson scolded Francis, who was getting a bit too into it with Matthew.

"Your face looks like a tomato, Lovi!" Antonio commented happily; Lovino cursed at him affectionately.

_Mr. Berwald is so scary . . . , _Tino thought and sweatdropped when he gave him a kiss.

"Uh, I'll just . . . hug you," muttered a very not-clingy Roderich, hugging his dance partner before Gilbert could get to Elizabeth.

"Your skin feels nice, Luddy!" Feliciano kissed Ludwig—whom he nicknamed Luddy, much to the latter's embarrassment—with a smile.

"Um, I guess we'll just go along with these people . . . ," Alfred suggested, blushing slightly at the though of kissing his date—even though they'd done it before. _Even if it was by accident . . . ._

Arthur titled his head upwards and touched his lips with Alfred's, sending cheerful sparks throughout his body. Alfred kissed him back, smiling happily. They pulled apart shortly after, along with everyone else.

"Thanks for taking me to prom, Art," Alfred thanked him, using the nickname that they established as kids.

"Thank you for asking me to go with you!"

"Okay, let's get down to business. I heard there was free food . . . ?"

* * *

Ahh, Feli never stops amusing me. Who comments on somebody's skin? Feli does, and he's cool like that.

600D 8J3! (1337, again.)

The nickname "Art" is actually from the book series _Keys to the Kingdom _by Garth Nix. You see, the main character's name is Arthur, and he has a nickname.


	22. Cooking or Baking

Welcome to Day 21 — Cooking/Baking!

I really want to write a chapter that includes a very popular Turkish drink called Ayran. It's a very salty/sour yogurt drink. This chapter is sort of based on a true story, because I drank some at my school cafeteria by accident. It looks a lot like milk, you see. I think it's rather noisome, but I'm American and haven't grown up with it. I actually almost threw up the first time I tasted Ayran, to state the truth.

Turkey visited England's house for a while and brought his favorite drink with him, leaving it behind by accident.

Oh, I'll be having a lot of more time to write now, because school's out! The only time I won't be able to post anything is most of August, because I'm going to Istanbul in Turkey on a language course and then I'm going to Aviation Challenge in Florida.

* * *

"These scones should be better this time, because I have a recipe now," England announced, gathering all the ingredients.

America secretly prayed to the heavens and tried to nod enthusiastically. Humming, England mixed flour, sugar, baking soda, salt, and butter in a bowl. Using the recipe book in front of him as a guideline, he measured exactly what he was told by the page.

_Well, it seems like he's doing this correctly. Maybe they'll taste good, for once._

"Where's the milk?" The shorter blond moved his hands in the fridge behind him, trying to feel for the liquid. "Never mind, I've found it." He turned, not bothering to check the white fluid as he poured it in, so he didn't notice that the bottle read, "Ayran", not "Milk".

* * *

_Ding!_

"They're done! Here you are," England said, handing America a pale blue plate from the wooden cupboards and placing a scone on it.

_It's not black or anything . . . . I think that's a good sign._

He picked up the scone and bit into it, struggling to not gag as the taste hit his tongue. The megane easily recognized the sour flavor.

_He cooked these with—! Turkey, I'm gonna kill you the next time you visit! _"These are, uh, delicious!" The American felt a little guilty upon seeing England's pleased face.

"Really? Thanks; I'll try it!" England picked another one up from the stovetop and sank his teeth into the bread. The tsundere immediately spat it out. "What? Were you lying just to make me feel happy, America? These are terrible!"

America smiled shyly, not feeling loquacious like usual. "Yes . . . ."

"Well, thank you for that," the British nation said, kissing his boyfriend on the cheek. "But I don't think these scones are any good."

"Oh, hey! You wanna give them as a grand 'gift' to Turkey?" America looked up, mischievous as always with blue eyes shining in revenge.

"It was just an accident, though. However . . . I, for some reason, wish to also pull a prank on someone . . . ."

* * *

Sorry if I offended Turks or something. Hetalia's like that. The prank will be shown on Day 28 — Doing Something Ridiculous, unless I forget.

_Güle güle! Mata ne!_


	23. In Battle, Side-by-Side

Welcome to Day 22 – In Battle, Side-by-Side!

I really didn't want to write up a war, so I discovered a loophole. This prompt doesn't say, "In War", it says, "In Battle". This can be anything from the Battle of Britain to a battle over a party game! Heh, this one is going to be fun.

* * *

America dragged England, France, Romano, and Spain into the small, quaint room, slamming the pale blue door behind them.

"America! What is the meaning of this?!" England jumped up off of the floor and dusted himself, not truly angry with his boyfriend; the World Meeting was boring that day.

"I agree with _Angleterre_. What is the problem? I was just about to work my magic of _l'amore_ on that bunch of beautiful men and women over near the World Meeting!" France pouted, crossing his arms. Everyone stared at him. "What? Is it wrong for me to love everyone . . . who deserves it, at least?"

"No. If I didn't have my cute, little Romano, I'd be flirting with everyone, too!" Spain smiled and hugged the Italian from behind.

"Get off me, tomato bastard!" The tsundere pushed Spain away, scowling.

"Back to business! Now, we're gonna play a gun game!" America's eyes were shining as everyone looked at him strangely.

"Gun game? But I hate those first-person shooter games; I suck at them!" Spain and France disagreed, nodded.

"No, they're fun, you _idiotas_!" Romano protested.

"Hey, wait! I thought that you didn't want to learn Spanish, Romano?" Spain picked up on the word that meant "idiots".

"I don't. I learned some rude words, though," Romano said with a slight smile.

Spain laughed, and America handed him a dart gun. The ammo was just a stick-like thing with a sucker, so it wouldn't hurt anyone.

"We get into groups of two! I'm with England!" The megane grabbed England's hand and held it up.

"Boo hoo, now I don't have anyone . . . ," France whined, seeing that Spain had paired up with Romano. "Maybe we can just ask Russia to—"

"No! You can just join us, okay? We can be called the Blond Trio!" America moved France closer to them with a laugh. "You get it? Because we're all . . . blond? Ha?" America trailed off awkwardly after noticing that no one found his joke funny.

"We can be the Tomato Gang, because we both love tomatoes! Right, Roma?" Spain looked at Romano's light green eyes and smiled.

"Fine, bastard. I'm going to make the Blond Trio wish that they were never born!" Romano held up his gun at the Blond Trio, finger tightening on the trigger.

"One, two, three, PLAY!" America ran forward, shooting his gun wildly. One hit France in the chin and stuck to his face, causing him to yell at the younger nation to _not _hit his own teammates.

Romano laughed as he hit England in the chest, shutting up when France nailed him in the stomach. Spain tackled France, laughing as he knocked him down. America was having the time of his life as they raced around the room—though, if the suckers were real bullets, everyone would have been dead by now.

Suddenly, England was hit right in the forehead, Romano running forward and heading him in the stomach. America ran over to England.

"Man down! I repeat, man down!" America stood up and jumped away from a sucker, which hit France instead, causing a curse in French to erupt from the man's lips. "The Tomato Gang!" He saw Spain, standing in front of him with a smirk on his face, pointing a gun right at his heart.

"It's over, Blond Trio!" Spain fired, but England quickly got up and tackled his boyfriend to the floor, making him miss his target.

"England! You're alive!" America hugged England happily.

"Well, not for long, at this rate. Let's take them down!" England sprang to his feet, shooting and shooting at the Tomato Gang until it seemed that they had had enough.

"Any last words?" America taunted, holding Spain and Romano at gunpoint along with England and France."

"Yes, I do. And that is: SCREW YOU!" Romano yelled as suckers plumed on his body, his boss falling over next to him.

"Yeah! The Blond Trio won!" America laughed and high-fived France, pecking England on the lips.

"We'll get you next time!" Romano and Spain yelled in revenge.

* * *

Oh, that was fun to write! This scenario happened in a game I was playing. It was called "Roomates Visual Novel" if you want to play it on the App Store. There was the "Rowdy Bunch" (which I joined) and the "Serene Gang". I don't think anyone won, but it was so much fun. I only joined the "Rowdy Bunch" because it had Rakesh, the guy I want my character, Max, to fall in love with. It's going well so far!


	24. Arguing

Welcome to Day 23 — Arguing

Today's is basically just this: sachie-sama. tumblr post / 88614302825 / but- can- you- imagine- married- usuk- arguing- where

I wanted to write it, okay? I wasn't in the mood to write sad stuff. BTW, if you haven't seen How to Train Your Dragon 2, GO WATCH IT. It was just so perfect and amazing and _Toothless and Hiccup and aghhhhh. _Lots of feels.

They don't seem to act any different, whether married or otherwise. (I'm typing about USUK, of course.)

Warning: sorta NSFW? Maybe a little bit . . . or maybe quite a lot? It's not as bad (good) as "Making Out", so . . . .

* * *

"No! I just can't give this up!" England glared with all of his _mighty British rage _at the American in front of him.

"Dude, it's just tea! And I need to give it to Italy; he's dying out there! I _told _him that he shouldn't have eaten that bottle of chili pepper, even if Romano dared him." America reached out to take away the pale blue cup.

"But it's Earl Grey!" England clutched the tea mug closer to his body, frowning.

"Ugh, you're acting strange today . . . what happened?"

"Nothing happened! Can't a man just enjoy his tea in peace?" England's emerald eyes swept through his bedroom, looking for an escape. _Shoot. The door's locked . . . . _

"Not today. Come on, I'll go buy some tea for you tomorrow, okay?" The megane pleaded, starting to advance on his husband.

"This is the _best kind_, imported from England! The tea there tastes much better than the tea in America!" England backed away from America until his back slammed into the edge of his bed, a sweat-drop forming on his head.

"I think that you taste much better than the tea in America, too . . . ," America whispered, putting on his best rape face.

"Ugh, what are you talking ab—hey!" England yelped as America sprang on top of the other nation, pinning him down by his arms and legs on the pale blue bed sheets, causing them to squeak.

"Agh, don't do that! You almost spilt my tea"—England set his mug down on the nightstand when America allowed him to move—"and—agh!"

America started biting and kissing his neck, struggling to quiet the shorter nation.

"Shut up! And sto—ah—doing tha-ah-t!" England protested, but America's inhuman strength kept him down, his hot breath on his neck.

England struggled even more, but his protests were fading into moans.

"I'll stop if you give me the tea~" America reasoned.

"Okay, okay, fine!" England sighed in relief when his husband straightened up, liberating him. "Take it, then!" He hadn't truly wanted America to stop, but he wouldn't even take the risk if Romano or Italy heard—which they would've; England was a bit of a screamer.

"Thank you!" America quickly ran out of the room, handing the mug to a crying Italy.

"Ve~ Thank you! My throat was burning!" Italy smiled when the tea cooled his throat.

"Don't mention it," America said, winking at a flustered England, who was standing near the hallway outside of his bedroom.

* * *

That "mighty British rage" part made me laugh so hard as I was typing it. I don't know how I think of these things . . . .

I kind of don't like this one because Italy could have just gotten water from the kitchen . . . but this way is a lot more entertaining!

Tomorrow is "Making Up Afterwards", so maybe England can get revenge on America and then they forgive each other?


	25. Making Up Afterwards

Welcome to Day 24 — Making Up Afterwards!

Remember, in yesterday's chapter, England and America were fighting over tea. He didn't want to give it up, but America managed to—uh—_convince _him. They're still husband and husband in this one.

In random news, I just saw _The Fault in Our Stars_. Oh, my . . . . It was so perfect and I cried at the ending. I didn't even really enjoy the novel, remember? But the movie was great! Feels slammed into me like Italy running away from Germany and then knocking me down or something. Great movie; I'll set it at 4th place. 1st place is _Rise of the Guardians, _then_ ParaNorman, _and then_ How to Train Your Dragon 2. _America may be acting a lot like Augustus in this one, sorry (not).

Oh, one other thing! If you're a fan of Spamano, this author ( fanfiction u/5601335/SadSassyFabulous), wrote a 30 Day Challenge for Spain x Romano! Here it is: fanfiction s/10447953/1/Spamano-30-Day-OTP-Challenge. She's also a fan of DenNor, USUK, RoChu, and SuFin, if you want to check out her profile. No, I'm not a stalker! I just wanted to mention her because I'm the one who gave her the inspiration to write a 30 Day Challenge! So . . . kudos to you!

* * *

"So, what do you want to do today?" America plopped down beside his husband on the black, leather couch.

"I don't know, but I know what you're going to be doing today," England answered.

"And what's that?" America smiled, leaning his head on England's shoulder.

"You're going to be making me some tea. Some _Earl Grey _tea."

"No, you're not still pissed off about that tea thing yesterday, are you?" America spoke in a pleading tone.

"Yep. Now get to work; you can make it in the microwave because I _know _you'll somehow ruin it."

"Fine. You know, tea is about the _only thing _that you can't mess up," America said, pushing himself up from the couch.

"I'm not forgiving you until I have a steaming mug on this table in front of me."

"Fine, fine . . . . Is there anything else that you desire, m'lord?" America asked jokingly.

"Nope! Now, get to making that tea, peasant." England smirked at America's mumbled threat.

"Peasant . . . . Screw that, I'm a King!" The megane walked into the kitchen, filled a pale blue cup with water and put it in the microwave while England waited patiently outside. "That is a hell of a lot of tea," America sweat-dropped and picked up a single tea bag, placing it in the steaming mug. "Yo, you want half-and-half?" The yell was answered immediately.

"I will never understand why you use the word, "yo", so much. Oh, yes please!" England sighed. _I hope he can do this correctly. That was a dirty trick he played yesterday!_

America poured in some half-and-half that he retrieved from the simple, white fridge, humming the _Batman_ tune. "Done!" He carried the mug into the living room, almost burning himself. "Ow, that's hot!"

"Thank you," England said, sipping from the mug. "Hey, this is actually pretty good!"

"Yay! So, you forgive me now, right?" America resumed his position next to him and swung his arm around his shoulders.

"Sure. You're forgiven." England turned his head and kissed his lover, smiling.

"I'm as awesome as . . . something that is awesome! Like _Batman_!" America closed his blue eyes and hugged England, imagining himself as the superhero.

* * *

Aw, these two are cute. Imagination is a powerful thing! Anyway, I'm going to be going through all of these chapters, and I'm going to edit them. If you follow me, then you must have noticed that I'm currently editing all of my stories, whether Hetalia, Danny Phantom, Gravity Falls, Warriors, Harry Potter, or otherwise. My Danny Phantom/Animorphs fiction will be completely redone when I get back to my house.


	26. Gazing Into Each Others' Eyes

Welcome to Day 25 — Gazing into Each Others' Eyes!

I'm back at my house! If you follow me, then you should know that I published a new Hetalia USUK one-shot—Confusion. You can read it here: www. fanfiction s/10464474/1/Confusion

By the way, italics are thoughts, if you haven't figured it out already.

* * *

"Hey, Iggy!" America ran up to the man, disrupting his serene reading.

"What?" He closed his book, slightly annoyed.

"Let's have a staring contest! Come on, all of the other kids here are doing it, and it looks like fun!"

England looked around the park and saw that his boyfriend was correct. "You're not a kid. Or, at least, I'm not a kid."

America rolled his eyes and sat down at the rickety table, flinching as a bee buzzed by. "You don't have to be a kid to do it. Now . . . go!"

England sighed and stared into America's eyes, not blinking. He couldn't help but admire their blue color. _They remind me of the sea I used to sail as a pirate. I was the fiercest on the waters, and no one dared to defy me! Now, it seems, I'm just a joke . . . . _He found himself stuck in a memory, looking around at his crew, and a smirk grew on his face.

America stared back just as persistently. The emeralds he saw were reminding him so strongly of something, but he couldn't grasp it! _That's it! _He remembered that, back in the Revolution area, there used to be a small patch of bright green grass near Trenton. It was shaded by a huge tree and was left untouched by the rain. America was whisked away in memories from 1776, remembering the times that he would travel there and relax in stressful moments. A slight smile grew on his face as he missed the grass that had eventually withered and died.

Both nations were thrown back into their own time period when their eyes started to hurt. America and England blinked at the same time, realizing that, _oh yeah, _they weren't a pirate or a fighter anymore.

"Um . . . ," England stuttered awkwardly.

"Oh, hey! I won!" America smiled triumphantly, forcing the mostly unwelcome memories of the Revolutionary War away.

"What? No, you didn't. That was obviously a tie!" England threw away his imaginary hat and eyepatch, shaking his head back to reality.

"Yeah, sure," America agreed, suddenly not feeling loquacious. He looked away, remembering all of the painful memories he shared with the British nation.

England squeezed his hand. "Now don't be getting all depressed on my watch!"

America smiled slightly and pulled England up. "Look, there's an ice cream truck over there. Let's go get some . . . ."

* * *

Random sad-ish moment? IDK, but I need to go work on my new Creepypasta video.


	27. Getting Married

Welcome to Day 26 — Getting Married!

Two bad! It's almost over . . . . I'm thinking of doing a new one but for GerIta instead. That's my second favorite pairing!

* * *

England stood at the alter, dressed in a white suit and tie. He was almost shaking with excitement and could barely stop himself from smiling like an idiot. _Yeah, but I'll be an idiot who just got married to the best boyfriend in existence!_

Looking over the crowd, the smartly dressed blond spotted Hungary, Japan, and Liechtenstein in the front, beaming widely. It looked like they were fangirling over their favorite couple. England smiled, remembering their attempts to hook America up with him—the perverts! He didn't like to admit that they had succeeded more than a few times.

His thoughts were interrupted suddenly by music starting. England's eyes swept the room, landing on the President of the U.S, Barack Obama; the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, David Cameron; the Vice President of the U.S, Joe Biden; the Queen of the United Kingdom, Elizabeth; and other important leaders from both America and England before the doors opened. A man appeared, dressed in a very similar outfit to England's.

America smirked with confidence and walked down the aisle, his fingers behind him in a parade rest. He walked up to England, coming to a stop right across from him.

The officiant said something about how their nations were now forever linked, but America was too busy admiring his soon-to-be spouse to care. _You look amazing_, America tried to communicate with his eyes, but England didn't get the message.

"Do you take America as your husband?"

England nodded with no hesitation. "I do."

"Do you take England as your husband?"

America took a split second to smile at England. "I do."

"I now pronounce you husband and wi—husband!" The man almost slipped with his words.

America and England placed their metal rings (they held no diamonds) on each others' finger, leaning in to kiss each other as the room erupted in cheers.

* * *

At the Dinner (because I don't know what happens after that . . . .)

"I'm so happy for you guys!" Michelle Obama, the First Lady of the U.S, ran over to the couple and hugged them.

"Me too!" Italy, with his boyfriend, Germany, in tow, raced over to the three and beamed at them. "We should get married too, Germany!"

"Seeing a couple in love always brightens my day!" France walked over, giddy. "Where are you going for your honeymoon? I bet you'll have a great time!"

"Yeah! You'll have to get some pictures for me, especially if you're going somewhere exotic!" Hungary popped up from behind them.

"I agree with Hungary-san," Japan said, nodding.

"Oh, bloody hell . . . ." England put a hand on his forehead to try to slow his upcoming headache.

* * *

I hope that I wrote this wedding correctly!

A parade rest is a military position. If you want to see what it looks like, look it up. America is actually using it incorrectly in this chapter. It's called "parade rest" for a reason, you see. You're supposed to use it when you are standing still.

Tell me: should I write a new 30 Day Challenge for GerIta when this one is finished?


	28. On One of Their Birthdays

Welcome to Day 27 — On One of Their Birthdays!

OMG, I'm so sorry about how late this is! I totally forgot about it until 12:25 AM! Technically, it's tomorrow, but I consider a time where the sky is dark to be night.

It'd be cool if I uploaded this on the Forth of July!

* * *

"Happy Birthday, America!" England choked out through his coughing, feeling sickness shoot through his body.

"Thanks, bro! I wish you would stop getting sick on my birthdays, though." America gave him a tissue, taking the present from his boyfriend. "If you know me well enough, then this is probably a video game or a comic book!"

England nodded, fighting the urge to cough. _Okay, lungs, keep your shit together for just a couple more hours!_

"Oh, yeah! Come inside!" America opened the pale blue door for England, leading him to the backyard. "Try not to get _too _drunk. Do I need to remind you what happened last time?"

"Ooh, let me tell the story~" France popped up from behind England, who was trying—and failing—to cough out a "no". "You ran down the streets of London in only your really sexy black waiter thing that you have in your closet, jumped on top of a lion outside of the library, and sang the national anthem of America really off-key and drunkenly. It was amazingly horrific."

England blushed. "Well . . . ."

"Look, the fireworks are exploding!" America grabbed England's hand and yanked him across the grassy area, almost tripping over branches in the dark. "Let's gooooooo!"

France understood that they wanted a moment alone in each others' company and turned to sit with Prussia, Spain, and Romano.

America and England sat down on the grass, the fireworks lighting up their faces.

"They're awesome, right?" America playfully nudged England, who was still coughing. "Hey, you okay?" He inched closer to England, looping an arm around him. "I don't know if this will help, but it's kinda cold, so . . . ." America pulled his jacket around England, heating up their cool bodies.

"I think that's working, thank you." England wrapped his own arm around America, watching the fireworks as they exploded.

"I like the red, white, and blue ones the best," America commented as noise hit their ears.

"Of course you do, git." England chuckled softly and snuggled more into America's warmth.

* * *

Yes, I used a line from _The Fault in Our Stars. _Amazing movie, okay book. USUK is again cute. Also, I love how France calls that thing "sexy". Unfortunately, I have no idea why it's there or why England has it.


	29. Doing Something Ridiculous

Welcome to Day 28 — Doing Something Ridiculous!

Alas, our time will soon be over, but I'll make sure to end this fic with a shebang! (I never understood that word . . . .)

The fic is late today because I had to go to the state fair. They played "Hey Baby" by Pitbull, which is what I consider to be France's theme. If—when—I make a "Hetalia Character Theme Songs" video, France will get that one if I don't change my mind.

**There is a song used in this chapter! I cannot put in the lyrics thanks to Fanfiction, so you can listen to it on YouTube. I know that you've probably already heard of it, so you can just search it up—if you dare!**

* * *

"Let's go prank people," America suggested as he stared angrily at his broken X-Box.

"Pranks? Isn't that a little mean?" England was honestly slightly mad that Austria had ruined America's X-Box. He had fun playing games with his boyfriend on it.

"Pranks are supposed to be funny. Now, I know the perfect way to get Austria back!"

* * *

"Austria!" America ran into the upright nation's house, slamming the door and almost tripping over a pale blue book on the hardwood floor.

"What? Did Hungary finally accidentally murder Prussia?" Austria looked up from his piano, adjusting his glasses.

"No, but I found this guy in your basement."

"How on earth did you get into my basement? If it's another hobo . . . ."

"I don't think so. He looked a lot like"—America scanned the room desperately before pointing at a portrait—"that dude!"

"Beethoven is not a 'dude'. But I guess I'll go see what happened." Austria made his way to his basement door, America in tow. The nation pushed the door open and walked down the steep steps, America lingering near the aperture. "There's no one he—"

America slammed and latched the door, running away quickly. He motioned to England, who was right outside the window. England, feeling slightly guilty, clicked a button on his iPhone and sending Austria to his audible doom.

The song "Baby" by Justin Bieber started playing through the speakers set up in Austria's basement. Loudly.

"W-what? No, not this song!" Austria plugged his ears but failed to block out the music. "What happened to music? Why do songs like this exist? Sometimes, they don't even have any real instruments in them and are done completely on the computer. It's horrible!" Austria banged his fist on the door. "Who even is this? Is it a guy or a girl; I can't even tell!"

America laughed at the thought of Austria's precious classical music being taken away from him and being forced to listen to electronic music.

England couldn't help but chuckle, though he was slightly worried by how annoyed Austria seemed. "When are we going to let him out?" He tapped on the window in Morse Code, knowing that America could understand.

"When the song is over," America tapped back.

England nodded and waited until the last beat was played. He paused the song.

America unlatched the door, waiting for Austria to beat him down verbally.

"Why did you do that to me? I'm kind to you!" The annoyed nation stamped up to America.

"But you broke my X-Box."

"That was an accident!"

"Well, you should watch where you step."

"I will inquire you again: Why did you lock me in my own house and blast that horrid 'new' music?"

"Um . . . it was funny?"

Austria clenched his fists, steam popping out of his head. "So you think I'm funny, huh?"

America and England darted away from the angry megane. "Run for your lives!"

* * *

So, that is supposed to be an ending. Sometimes, hobos sneak into Austria's house.


	30. Doing Something Sweet

Welcome to Day 29 — Doing Something Sweet!

I want this chapter to take place where we went yesterday—at the state fair! All of the rides featured in this chapter are actually at the state fair.

* * *

"Sixty eight dollars, America! Sixty eight!" England complained, wondering why the state fair costed them so much money.

"Well, we get unlimited rides!" America's blue eyes swept the area, weaving their way through the crowd while music blared. "Look! Let's go on that thing!"

England looked at where America was pointing and paled slightly. "Uh, you aren't pointing to the _Tornado_, are you?"

"Yep!" America watched as the circle was picked up and held vertically, listening to the happy screams of the riders as they were spun around in their little carts that was connected to the circle. "Are you scared? We don't have to ride it if you don't want to." He noticed England's face.

"N-no! It's okay; I'll ride it with you," England yelped, waving his arms as if to shoo away the matter.

"I'll hold your hand, and you'll be fine!" America smiled warmly at his boyfriend, taking his hand and squeezing it.

"Let's just get this over with!"

America and England walked up to the sign, which stated that they had to be at least sixty inches tall to ride. They were well over that and they nodded in greeting to the short, blond women with a black cap.

They waited until the ride had stopped, watching laughing people dizzily rejoin their families. A blond man guided them to a green cart, strapping the two inside next to each other.

"Wow, these seats are huge!" America looked over at England, who was biting his lip nervously. "Hey, calm down. You'll be fine; I'm right next to you! Literally right next to you. You're kind of smashing into me."

"Sorry."

The ride started with a hissing noise as the circle started to spin, the carts in tow.

"See? This isn't so bad." America smiled.

"It'll get worse, trust me!"

"And you're always the pessimistic one."

The ride spun faster and faster until the circle began to turn vertically, the carts spinning around. America yelped in pain because England kept slamming into him.

"My hip hurts. Ow, ow, ow, o—ahhhh!" America let out a cheered scream as the ride spun them around completely. They were vertical now.

England was gripping the bar so tight that his knuckles were white. He screamed in fear as he felt the world drop underneath him and though about how much he hated heights.

"You're not gonna die!" America yelled over the noise of wind whipping past them. "I'll keep you safe, okay?" He grabbed England's hand and kissed his cheek, comforting him. He held his boyfriend's hand until the ride stopped, climbing out of the cart.

"Thank you. Um, can we maybe not go on any scary rides?" England blushed, feeling like a kid.

"Of course. Hey, bumper cars aren't scary, right?"

* * *

England held up his mint ice cream with rainbow sprinkles, licking it as the couple weaved their way through the crowd. America also had one, but it was vanilla instead.

"Why didn't you get chocolate? It's your favorite flavor."

"There's a time for chocolate, and then there's a time for other flavors. I had too much chocolate ice cream last night."

"No duh! You ate the whole tub! I didn't even think that that was humanly possible!"

America laughed at England comment, noticing that the crowd of people around him had suddenly increased. "Where are they going?" He looked around, noticing a sign. "A show? Ooh, it's like a circus! We have to go see it, England!"

England nodded. _A circus sounds like fun. It's free, so why not?_

Thirty minutes later, the couple was sitting next to each other in the bleachers, still eating their previously neglected ice cream.

"Hey!" England yelped as an elbow hit his hands, making his ice cream fall onto the floor. "Aw, it's ruined," he couldn't help but sulk.

"We can share mine." America offered his vanilla cone to England.

"But everyone will see and _know _and . . . ."

"England"—America looked him straight in his emerald eyes—"You are my boyfriend, and I don't care what anyone else thinks."

England smiled and took a bite of America's ice cream, enjoying the taste. America and England continued to share the ice cream, watching the ringmaster as he introduced the crew.

"It looks like there's a young couple over there. Isn't that sweet?" The ringmaster had noticed the two, and the couple blushed, mortified, when everyone turned their heads to see.

"Oh, no . . . ." To their surprise, everyone around them was smiling and not one was saying anything rude. Their mouths almost fell open when some even _clapped _for them.

"I guess views have changed . . . ," America commented, smiling.

"Yeah. It's nice to feel accepted for once."

* * *

"That idiot! He's going to fall and break his head open!" England gasped when the performer ran along the metal cylinder as it circled on its axis.

"I know!" America and England grabbed onto each other as one of them stumbled.

The cylinders continued to circle on their axises, the two men walking on the outside of them. Somehow, they managed to not plummet down onto the concrete, keeping their balance.

"He's not gonna do it!" America's blue eyes widened in shock as they pulled out a jumprope. He clapped loudly, cheering in disbelief as the man jumproped as he walked on the spinning metal cylinders.

"Let's give a huge thanks to the Bergamo brothers!" The ringmaster yelled through his microphone as everyone complied.

"It's getting dark. We'll have to leave soon." America wrapped his arm around England's waist, bringing him closer to his warmth.

* * *

"That was a great day! Thanks for driving and paying," England commented happily, America swinging his hand back and forth as they walked past the "exit only" sign.

"It was my pleasure. Thank you for coming with me." America yawned tiredly.

"Yeah, I'm tired too. Your place?"

"Duh. We can't fly all the way back to England, now can we?"

The couple walked to America's car, driving back to America's house.

_He's sleeping . . . . I shouldn't wake him up. _America picked his boyfriend up bridal-style and carried the sleeping man into his house, locking the door behind him.

* * *

The Bergamo brothers exist only in Pseudonymous Bosch's _The Secret Series_, but I felt like giving them a small reference. Wow, I wrote a _lot _today! I'm honestly really sad that this is going to be finished tomorrow . . . . I didn't think I'd be so heartbreaking! Strange . . . .

**I am wondering about tomorrow. The day is 30 — Doing Something Hot, which I'm sure that you know what that means. I will not write a lemon—sorry—but I may just write some teasing foreplay. What do you think about it?**


	31. Doing Something Hot

Welcome to Day 30 — Doing Something Hot!

This one will be a lime, so it will not be very descriptive. I also want to keep this story at a T rating, so I'll work with what I can do. This'll probably be very short; sorry.

* * *

England couldn't really connect the thoughts and events that occurred after drinking a little—or a lot—more of the wine than he wanted to. He certainly remembered having a fun time with his boyfriend, America, before they both got drunk. The nation did recall talking about sports and Russia before things started to bleed into one another.

He placed a hand on his head, fighting through the horrid hangover he had and struggled to remember.

"Let's see . . . ." He furrowed his eyebrows, and then his eyes widened when he suddenly recalled more events.

He remembered drunkly and hurriedly stumbling up the stairs to his bedroom with America. He had been almost thrown onto the pale blue bed, his mouth immediately filled with his boyfriend's tongue, which he definitely remembered moaning at. Recalling his boyfriend's touch as his hands messily undid their clothing almost had him getting all hot and bothered again.

_Ah, his touch . . . . _The megane's fingers had seemed to know exactly where to go and where to touch, driving England up the wall. England remembered the strong feeling of pure, ardent lust and moans and pants and—_agh!_

England held his head as pain exploded in his skull. _Dang it, maybe I should just remember it later. But it does sound like a bloody amazing night, though . . . ._

His thoughts couldn't help but become immensely dirty as America shifted on the bed next to him. The blue-eyed nation groaned with pain as he sat up slowly, looking at England before sudden realization hit him.

"Hey, why are we naked?" America's thoughts were too clogged with pain to come up with the obvious answer.

"Why do _you_ think we're nude?" England asked back before America blinked, and he suddenly understood.

"Hot damn! From what I remember, last night was one of the best sex that we've had. I don't think I'd mind doing that again." He hissed in discomfort. "Of course, minus the 'drunk' part. Ow, ow . . . ."

"What do you remember of it?" England asked, rubbing his head.

"I remember the part where I licked your ear a whole bunch. I hope I didn't get earwax on it! Talk about squick."

England chuckled at that, falling back down onto the bed. "And I was bottom again."

"Well, you're supposed to be bottom. Do you ever see a tsundere character being seme? I didn't think so."

"Stop calling me tsundere."

"But you are so tsundere! It's cute"—America, with a devious smirk, leaned next to England's ear—"but you're always such a screamer in bed."

"How can I not be with your 'mad skills', as you put it?"

America started laughing so much that it took a while before he could even breathe. "I'd never thought I'd hear those words pass your lips!"—America looked at his lips—"You have nice lips, by the way. Very kissable," he commented, winking.

"You can kiss me if you want."

"Awesome~" America hugged his still-naked boyfriend, kissing his lips.

"Are you still drunk?" England asked, muffled, when he noticed that it was far from chaste.

"Nah. You're just too erotic!" America spoke the truth—well, to him, at least—as he continued kissing his boyfriend ardently.

* * *

Okay. I'm done! Yeah, done . . . . Yippee? I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be happy about that, because I'm not certainly _not_. Anyway, I might start one for GerIta or something. The problem is, I don't really want to do GerIta. I can't do Spamano, because SadSassyFabulous is already doing that . . . .

Ardently means "excitedly or passionately", if you didn't know.


End file.
